


Look at Where We Started

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Star Trek Bingo 2020 [5]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Professors, Starfleet Academy, these two are just so damn domestic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25844911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Tasha remembered a time when the thought of making it to thirty had been laughable. The idea that she could have ever reached her fifties, with a husband and kids and a job as a teacher, of all things, would have made her younger self snort at the ridiculousness of it all. Girls from Turkana didn’t get nice things. But Tasha had.
Relationships: Data/Tasha Yar
Series: Star Trek Bingo 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875274
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12
Collections: Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020





	Look at Where We Started

**Author's Note:**

> For the bingo prompt "mentors/teachers." Pretty much just a slice-of-life oneshot of these two being cute in their middle+ age (is it still middle age if people live to be well over 100?). Teen rating for mild sexual references, but its probably overkill.

Tasha had never really gotten used to San Francisco. That wasn’t to say she didn’t like the city; San Francisco was a wonderful place, bright and diverse, teaming with life and hope and all the best parts of the human race. But Tasha had never really been a city girl at heart. Sure, she’d technically grown up in one, but the crumbling ruins of Turkana City’s dilapidated underground hardly qualified the way San Francisco did, and her early years on Earth weren’t exactly her happiest memories as she struggled to be tamed and fit in. She’d been devoted to her studies at the academy and barely even seen the city, and then it had been starship after starship – well, really just a few – with the endless stretch of moving space beyond her windows. It had all made her used to impermanence, and the ever-changing nature of a city like San Francisco hadn’t helped. They’d tried, in the beginning. Gotten a little apartment close to the Academy, with a spare room in case the kids dropped by, and tried to make it work. It had, for about a year. But Tasha had gotten antsy. If she was being honest, she’d never really unpacked. Figuratively speaking, of course. Data was good at unboxing and organizing, and it wasn’t like they had that much to move.

But she’d been miserable. Data had picked up on it. Her students had picked up on it. Hell, Tatum had dropped by for half an hour on shore leave and picked up on it. In her younger days, Tasha might have dug her heels in and fought through it, pretending there wasn’t a problem. She was better than twenty years beyond that now. She’d had a frank conversation with her husband: she hated living in the city. She felt crowded and claustrophobic, like she was going to be tossed out at any moment. She wanted to be somewhere that felt solid, stable. More room, less people.

They’d ended up towards the western border of Arizona. Lot of sand, some scrubby trees, and a nice little ranch house that you could just barely see the neighbors from. It was a short motorcycle ride to the nearest city with a transporter system, and Tasha loved the open air. She felt like she could finally breathe.

And it didn’t hurt that the vintage-style motorcycle – _not_ one of those hovercycle mimicries – and the matching leather jacket really suited her. Data had said as much, many times, and with _great_ enthusiasm.

Her classes were earlier than his, so Tasha pretty much invariable left for work earlier. An android might not have needed sleep, strictly speaking, but she still tended to rise earlier than him, going over her lesson plans while she drank her coffee. He was usually up by the time she was out the door, practiced enough to pass her her motorcycle helmet with a kiss as she breezed by him. The sun would wash orange across the plains as she rode, making its way overhead by the time she parked, helmet tucked under her arm and satchel of PADDs slung over her shoulder as she stepped into the public transporter booth and then out again into San Francisco, usually in time to watch the sun rise again. Her leather jacket would be shrugged off in her office, her helmet deposited on her desk, professor uniform only half fastened, revealing the workout clothes beneath. And she’d go to work.

They’d tried to stick Tasha behind a desk when Starfleet Academy had first made her the offer. And Tasha didn’t necessarily mind the lectures, but she had been the flagship’s security chief for better than fifteen years, and she hadn’t kept that position just by barking orders. No, Tasha’s place was first and foremost in the gym, with hands-on lessons. She might have been in her fifties, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t trounce the floor with any entitled first year Fleet brat who thought sheer strength was enough to take down any opponent. Tasha had spent years surviving on being quick and agile. It didn’t hurt that she could practically bench-press her husband’s weight (a fact which delighted Data to no end, especially when Tasha went sleeveless), but Tasha knew strategy, and by the time her students were graduates, they would be prepared for anything.

She was in the cool-down stage after her morning ‘lecture’ when a student approached. Not one of hers; Tasha was good with faces, and she definitely knew which Vulcans were in her class, because almost none of the Vulcans at the academy went into security. She dropped onto the bench, her uniform jacket wrapped around her waist by the sleeves, and waved an inviting hand. “What can I do for you?”

The woman did not take a seat, but Tasha was good at reading micro-expressions – she’d married an android, after all, and known him for years before the emotion chip had made him easier to read even for strangers. The Vulcan folded her hands behind her back, three bars at the collar of her cadet reds indicating that she was a third year. Probably not looking to take one of Tasha’s classes, then; if Tasha hadn’t seen a student by their third year, they weren’t on the security track. Period.

“My name is T’Shara,” the Vulcan began. Her tones were slightly clipped. Definitely nervous, then. She hesitated. “You are Professor Tasha Yar, correct?”

“That’s me.” Tasha slapped her hands against her knees, head cocked. “You’re not a security student, are you?”

“No, sir.” T’Shara, if it was even possible, straightened further. “I’m pursuing the science track, with a specialization in exobiology.”

Ah. Tasha smiled. She pushed herself to her feet, gesturing for the young woman to follow her out of the gym. “Walk with me.”

“Sir?”

“I’ve got some time to kill before my next class, and I’m married to a chatty exobiologist. I know Vulcan olfactory senses are well above humans. The gym is probably a nightmare for you.”

T’Shara blinked. “Your consideration is appreciated, sir.”

“You can drop the sir, cadet. Save it for my husband.” Tasha shot a glance at her. “That is why you wanted to talk, isn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

“You’re a third-year exobiology student. My husband is Starfleet Academy’s most distinguished exobiology professor.” Tasha gave her a smile. “I may not be a genius like he is, but I can put two and two together.” She pushed open the gym doors, striding out onto the sparkling lawn. “So. Data.”

T’Shara kept pace at her heels. “Professor Soong-Yar’s classes have been extremely efficient.”

“And as a Vulcan, you admire android efficiency.” She wasn’t the first cadet who had done the Vulcan equivalent of gushing in Tasha’s presence, and Tasha highly doubted she would be the last.

“I know he is seeking a TA position, for assistance with some of his lower level classes.”

Tasha blinked, drawing to a halt. T’Shara stopped precisely, and Tasha rounded on her in the middle of the quad. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“He announced it in class today.”

“Huh.” Tasha chewed on her lip and frowned. “So, why are you coming to me?”

“It is logical to seek out those who have worked with him before, to understand how I might best present myself as a candidate.”

Tasha stared at the Vulcan. Then she laughed. T’Shara raised an eyebrow. “Have I said something amusing?”

It took a moment to get her laughter under control. “Cadet, you really don’t have to be intimidated by Data.”

Both of T’Shara’s eyebrows flew up. “I am not-“

“If you weren’t intimidated, you’d have your resume on his desk already,” Tasha told her. She started walking again, T’Shara scurrying to keep up with her. “Data will pick the best candidate. If you think that’s you, then it’s illogical to worry.”

“And if I am not the best candidate?”

Tasha shot her a curious glance. “Oh?”

“I do not have the highest scores in any of Professor Soong-Yar’s classes. I am dedicated to my work, but there are others who outclass me in skill. I do not know what else I have to offer.”

There was a hint of nervousness in her voice, barely there, but enough that Tasha was reminded of Aletris when he had been young. Her heart gave a sympathetic pang, and she smiled to herself as they reached the building where Tasha’s office was located. She pulled the door open, and held it there. “Here’s the advice I can give you. Data appreciates hard work. He’s not looking for the smartest person in the room. He’s looking for the person who genuinely cares, who wants to know everything there is, not because they want to be seen as smart, but because learning about the world around you is the best way to appreciate it. If you show him you care, that’s what’ll impress him. Okay?”

T’Shara nodded. “Thank you. Sir.”

Tasha smiled. “Don’t mention it.” She watched the cadet give a smart about-face, striding off across campus in the direction of the science complex, and then turned back into her own building.

Data was sitting on her desk, and Tasha grinned at him as she shut the door behind her. “Waiting for me?” She didn’t wait for an answer; Data often dropped by to visit her between classes, or the other way around. She pressed between Data’s legs, pecking a brief kiss to his lips, her hands finding an automatic home on his thighs. She pulled away, leaning her forehead against his. “Rumor is you’re looking for a TA?”

“If you are making a roleplay suggestion, I will remind you that we are at work.”

Tasha laughed, and Data’s lips quirked into a smile. She shook her head. “I’m talking about your student, T’Shara, who just followed me from class, asking about how to get into your good graces so she can TA for you. I didn’t even know you were looking.”

Data blinked and cocked his head. “T’Shara sought your advice?”

“Mmhm.” Tasha nodded, smirking. “I can’t say I blame her. After all, you are clearly the most intimidating professor here.” She leaned in for another kiss, this one lingering longer. Against his lips, she murmured, “Why do you need a TA? You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“The Academy board has asked me to pursue greater strides in my research. While I could theoretically balance the workloads with little difficulty, I would prefer the ability to be more focused on my work, rather than having my attention divided.”

“You’re not getting bored, are you?” It hadn’t been Data’s idea to teach at Starfleet Academy. When they’d first talked about stepping down from the _Enterprise_ , Data’s thought had been to leave Starfleet entirely, maybe teach at university somewhere. Then Starfleet had reached out, had asked if they would be interested in filling a teaching position at the Academy. They’d gone back and forth. It was clear where they had landed, but Tasha still worried sometimes.

Data shook his head. “I am satisfied with my work. I enjoy teaching.”

“You could always switch tracks. I’m sure probability mechanics could always use another professor. I still don’t understand the stuff,” she teased.

Data smiled. “I am happy where I am.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, wrapping an ankle around her leg to draw her closer. “I would not lie to you.”

“Mmm.” Tasha gave him one last kiss, then set her hands against his chest. “Okay. I have just enough time for lunch before-“

Data was already handing it to her. “I should go. My next lecture will begin shortly.” He slid from her desk, pausing in the doorway. “Based on your interaction, what is your opinion of T’Shara?”

Tasha smiled, leaning against her desk. “She cares. A lot. I think she’s worth a look.”

Data nodded. “I will take that under consideration.”

Tasha watched him go. The professor uniforms were a little more tightly tailored than standard Starfleet ones, and that was a fact that Tasha had to appreciate.

Her afternoon class was more advanced, so she didn’t even bother putting the jacket back on when she made her way back to the gym, although she did have to retie her hair to keep it out of her face. She really didn’t mind it a little longer these days, but the maintenance did occasionally make her long for the undercut of her youth. The drawbacks of having hair long enough to pull was, well, people could pull it.

The cadets snapped to attention when she strode in, jumping from the bleachers and into formation automatically. “At ease,” Tasha told them, and they relaxed. She smiled to herself. Still got it.

She hit the showers when class wrapped. The coed nature of Starfleet’s facilities, particularly the gym showers, had made Tasha wary as a cadet, but years of therapy and professional training had leeched those worries away. She did still appreciate the stalls that locked, but that had less to do with professionalism and more to do with a few times Tasha had gotten carried away after a workout. Namely, when her husband joined her.

She changed into a fresh uniform, doing up the front smartly, smoothing it down and running a brief brush through her hair to tame it. She grinned at herself in the mirror. She’d aged gracefully; she knew she looked hot in revealing workout gear, but she didn’t look half bad in her more official professor getup either. She remembered a time when the thought of making it to thirty had been laughable. The idea that she could have ever reached her fifties, with a husband and kids and a job as a _teacher_ , of all things, would have made her younger self snort at the ridiculousness of it all. Girls from Turkana didn’t get nice things. But Tasha had.

She knew the science complex by heart, which was pretty impressive, considering how massive it actually was. It was easy to make her way to the lecture halls, glancing with interest into some of the lab windows as she passed, watching goggled students at work. The real work was done upstairs, where she’d visited more than one of Data’s research projects, but she didn’t need to go there today. Data’s lecture was on the ground floor, and Tasha slipped in the back and took a seat in an empty row, dropping her leather jacket, helmet, and satchel of PADDs onto the seat next to her. She leaned back in her chair and propped her chin up on one hand, watching with fondness as Data paced the front of the room, his voice animated as he spoke. Tasha could see several students leaning forward, scribbling on their PADDs, their attention rapt. There were definitely at least a few that were asleep, or nearly there, and Tasha suppressed a smile at the thought that, unfortunately, Data couldn’t simply throw his students across the mat when they weren’t paying attention.

Tasha waited as the lecture ended, most of the students sparing less than a glance for her as they filed out, while a few clustered around Data, PADDs clutched to their chest, asking questions. Data packed as he answered, sliding his work into a messenger bag, shooting Tasha a brief, apologetic smile. Tasha gave one back, and half a shrug. She didn’t mind the wait.

She stood when Data made his way up the aisle, the last couple stragglers following behind him. She shrugged on her jacket, shouldering her bag and tucking her helmet under her arm. “Hey,” she murmured, falling into step beside him. “Good class?”

Data glanced back over his shoulder, and the cadets giggled nervously. “The students continue to perform admirably,” he answered.

Tasha laughed as they blushed, threading her arm through Data’s. “Are you staying late today?”

“I did not intend to.”

“Great. Since Geordi’s getting in on shore leave, I thought maybe we could have dinner with him tomorrow. Invite him to the house.”

Data smiled. “I will extend the offer. Perhaps, if she does not have a shift at Starfleet Medical, Lyra would be willing to attend too.”

“We could make it a family thing.” Tasha contemplated. Tatum’s ship wouldn’t be in the area, but Aletris had commed her the other day to tell her he would be taking a week off his studies at the VSA to spend some time back on Earth with them and his sister. “Is anyone else in the vicinity, do you think?”

“The _Titan_ is out on patrol, but the admiral may be available. Should I contact him?”

“Sure.” Tasha headed in the direction of the transports, confident that Data would remain in step beside her. “God, it’s been way too long since we all got together. Thad and Kesta are probably getting so big!”

Data glanced at her, and although his smile was fond, Tasha could see some regret in his expression. “That is the unfortunate nature of a large galaxy. However, scheduling a reunion may be a good idea.”

“I’d like that.” Tasha paused at the sound of running footsteps behind them, turning as they solidified into her name, and one of her students came barreling to a stop just behind them. “Hey, Aria. Did you need something?”

The cadet snapped upright, back going straight. Her eyes darted to Data, who studied her curiously, and then back to Tasha. Her breathing was only slightly impacted when she said, “I’m with the academy’s aikido team. Professor Soren is taking a leave of absence, and we need a faculty advisor. The club asked me to ask you if you’d be interested.”

“You meet Fridays, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tasha nodded. “I can swing that. Come to my office hours tomorrow, and we can talk about it.”

“Thank you, sir.” Aria backed away, and jogged off to join up with another group on the quad.

Tasha shook her head, still smiling. “I think I’m going soft.”

Data cocked his head, his lips quirking. “Oh?”

She resumed her heading towards the transporters, and he fell back into step beside her. “Clearly I’m not hardass enough if these kids want me to advise their clubs.”

“It is a martial arts club,” Data pointed out. “And the students still show you a great deal of respect.”

Tasha laughed. “One of these days, I might even ask them to start calling me ma’am.”

“That would be most unusual of you.”

Tasha shoved Data playfully in response to the tease, stepping through the transport with him by her side. When they stepped off the platform, she continued, “Are you taking the bike with me, or did you get your own ride?”

“I caught the shuttle out. I can ride home with you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tasha needled, tugging on her helmet as they approached her parked bike. “Any excuse to get your hands on me.”

Data raised his hands in surrender. “I have said no such thing.” But Tasha didn’t miss the look in his eyes as she mounted the motorcycle. She started it up, the bike rumbling to life beneath her, and then jerked her head for Data to get on. His arms secured around her waist, his legs a comforting weight against her own, and Tasha pulled out of the lot, heading in the direction of home. Security training wasn’t all tossing cadets around. She had papers to grade, tactical assessments to correct. But she’d do it at her kitchen table, across from Data reviewing essays on the Horta reproductive cycle. It was domestic normalcy. And that made it just about right.


End file.
